Hello Project, I wanted to tell you that for three weeks now I feel much better and it seems to me that I can get out of the black mood. It seems incredible, but it’s happening. Project, what you did for me has never been done by anyone and it seems incredible to me that you can create similar relationships even if you don’t even know who I’m, but it happens. In the last period everything has changed for me, apparently nothing has changed but I’m the one who has changed, I feel that I have changed and I owe it to you. You know all my story and you told me that there are other guys who live and have lived similar things and then I want to tell my story to those guys because not being alone and understanding that we are not alone, for those like me, is fundamental. Project, the story is long and I took so long to write it but I think it makes sense, because in the end I’m finding my way and so I finally feel free. Project, I tell you something true: I adopted you as a father! It’s something that I missed so much and I’m discovering beautiful things! (Thanks for the good wishes, you’re the only one who has remembered it!)
THE STORY OF PAUL
My name is Paul, I was born in Milan almost 28 years ago. If I look back at my childhood and adolescence I find no time in which I can say I was I don’t say happy but not even serene. My parents never got along, from the date of their marriage and from my date of birth I deduced that I was already arriving when they got married, which would not be a problem, but I don’t look like “my father” at all, under any point of view, just as far as genetic factors are concerned, and I think I’m not even a son of the man who married my mother, but I don’t know for sure and I cannot ask for something like that.
My parents (if they really are my parents), I remember that they often screamed and made spite. They had no other children and I was the object of contention, and I had many times, even as a child, the very clear feeling that “my father” didn’t want me because he knew I was not his son. My mother literally considered me a mess and tried to entrust me to relatives and to various campsites. From the age of eight, that is, since they divorced, they put me in a boarding school for rich people. My parents are economically wealthy. But the choice to send me to boarding school was just a way to disguise the fact that their wanted to get rid of me in order to continue living their lives without me. I was just one that had nothing to do with them.
The college was in a very nice place in the [omissis] area. They came to see me once in a while, usually once every three months, once he and one she. When the teachers told me that the next day my father or my mother would come, I felt really bad and I hated them as I think I never hated anyone.
When I was a kid I did not understand these things well and felt guilty because I hated my parents while teachers told me I should love them. In practice I grew totally alone, both during the school months and during the holidays. I specify that my college was totally male and managed by priests. A hateful place where with the excuse of letting me learn the discipline I was practically relegated as in prison. You learned hypocrisy, falsehood, and even the relationships with schoolmates were just of competition and constant acting, even in private.
My schoolmates waited at least for the summer holidays, I didn’t, because I would have ended up somewhere else like a parcel post. When my mother came to my boarding school, she took me to lunch outside and thought she had done her duty. We only talked about school and she tortured me for hours because she thought it was her duty to pay me a long visit. My father at least stayed very little. Both he and she gave me expensive gifts that I systematically threw away or gave away to someone soon after they left.
Since I was 15 years old they have not given me any more presents but they have thought to give me money and many. I never took that money and they considered me an imbecile for this too. So I was in a boarding school and I didn’t have a penny in my pocket.
The school was a real torture for me. In the fifth gymnasium ( 15th grade) I was rejected which meant another year in prison, I would have gone out of college only after have turned 20! Repeating the fifth gymnasium I met a guy that I liked a lot, I didn’t even understand why.
We were in a religious college and we had a spiritual father. So I started to masturbate thinking about that guy and I felt tremendous guilt. I told the priest that I was masturbating and he didn’t take it as a tragic thing, he always made the same speech and stopped there, but I didn’t say to the priest that I felt homosexual. Once I went badly in crisis and told him that I was gay. It was a terribly wrong choice! College life has become a torture. They controlled me visually as the rotten apple. I always had a priest nearby during my free time. In a first moment I tried to repress and control myself, that is, not to masturbate anymore and even to stop thinking about that guy, but it was a real torture. I resisted even three weeks by auto-imposing not to even think about sex but then I didn’t do it anymore and I masturbated again and I said: “Enough with these absurdities! Go to the hell!”
Since then I began to tell the spiritual father only false things: that I no longer thought of the boys and that I didn’t even masturbate anymore, but I presented it step by step to make it seem credible, I was 16 and a half years old. Naturally I went to church every day, confessed false things and made communion every day. It was a sacrilegious thing, I know, religion should be a free choice, while for me it was just an instrument of torture and frankly I didn’t feel guilty, and why, then? In our college there were never any common moments with other guys in a state of freedom.
At school we did physical education but in the afternoon, there was the gym, also very nice, but there were no locker rooms, no showers. We arrived wearing sports uniform and went away wearing sports uniform. Among other things, it was generally very cold there. We each had a single room with a private bathroom and shower. So I had no chance to see the boy I was interested in if not perfectly dressed, jacket and tie of the college.
I started masturbating since the 16 and a half, but in a place like that, without the internet (considered as the devil!) And without any chance to read an uncensored book or buy a newspaper, in practice, I did everything using fantasy. I selected someone among my classmates and built on them all my fantasies. The first times, this new regime seemed acceptable and even pleasant, then I began to realize that I was throwing my best years this way. The year of the final examination, in November, I also escaped from the college, I was of age, in fact I was almost 20 years old but I didn’t have a penny in my pocket. I arrived at the station after having walked a very long way and I got on a train without paying the ticket and I locked myself in the bathroom until the arrival in Milan so that they couldn’t detect me.
In the college room I had left a letter saying that I would be back in the evening. In Milan I realized for the first time, at almost 20, that the world existed, something that was shocking for me, I was late for years. In the afternoon I newly got the train with the same technique and I came back to the boarding school. Result: they kicked me out of the college! Finally! Of course they warned my parents, who were careful not to come and see what had happened. My mother gave me some money (a telegraphic order) and I have been in a hotel since then in the town near the college.
Then my mother found me a tiny apartment there and they transferred me to the state high school. There were the girls! I had never seen one before, but I wasn’t interested in girls. But the world of the state school was completely different. The professors sometimes even talked about sex, no one forced us to go to mass, there was no spiritual father and we did physical education in a gym with locker room and showers, I couldn’t even imagine a trauma bigger than that .
You might think that in a situation like this I felt good, but it was not like that at all. I felt desperately alone, full of complexes, I had entered the locker room just once for a moment, but after I saw my naked mates I didn’t enter there anymore. They were all there joking and having fun but I just felt the heart beating at 180. The feeling of loneliness and isolation was total. I had a mini-apartment all of my own and fortunately the feeling of solitude sometimes seemed a feeling of freedom.
To prepare the exam I bought a computer and there a new world opened in front of me. Avalanches of free gay sex, but those things sickened me. A few years ago even in porn things were different, they were more vulgar, more aggressive and I didn’t like them at all. When I masturbated thinking about my schoolmates I was fine but when I tried to imagine myself in scenes like the ones I had seen on porn sites I was nauseated. In practice I saw that gay content on the net was all sex but in the most vulgar sense of the term.
I studied very little that year because I had to grow up in many other things. In the end I passed the final examination with a very low rating. But at least the school’s torture was over. I was sorry because the following year there would be no more chance to see my schoolmates naked in the locker room, what, by the way, had almost never happened, but at least there was the possibility.
I leave my apartment and I move to Milan in another apartment paid by my parents. A minimal thing. My parents lived in Milan but I would never have gone to their home, now we no longer called each other not even by phone, after my escape from the college I was considered just a blockhead and the low-grade of my diploma was the further proof of it.
I enrolled in Engineering at the Polytechnic shortly after I turned 20. So many guys and beautiful, but I was totally unable to maintain contact with them even at the minimum level, I felt embarrassed, I felt them more grown up than I was in every sense, even if my classmates had a year less than me. I had tried everything: I enrolled in the gym and then I never went there, I tried to see if it was possible to study with some of my colleagues but always went wrong, they were real geniuses, and I understood little or nothing at all.
The first year I passed a single examination with 19 [18/30 is the minimum score to pass an exam]. At least it was not 18! The second year I newly attended the same courses of the first and I passed a single exam again but with 20! I was 22 years old I was basically a failure from all points of view. Bad university results, practically between university and school, three years lost. I tried to repeat again the first year, but I could not endure it anymore.
My colleagues were three years younger than me and they understood everything, I didn’t understand anything and I didn’t study anything, I felt essentially a failure. I sent everything to ruin, I bought things to eat that went bad in the fridge, sometimes I didn’t get up from bed all day, I ate very little and lose weight dramatically. I have arrived to weigh 55 kilos, even though I am not very tall it’s anyway very few.
At the age of 23 I changed faculty and moved to Economics. The thing was more human and at the end of the year, working at terrible rhythms, I managed to do almost all the exams of the first year. At least from that point of view things started working again. I took my first degree at the age of 27! After too many years lost! I did the first year of the specialistic but of the exams that were planned I did little more than a half because I started working and I finally cut the economic cordons with my family. From this point of view, let’s say, I managed to return to the surface, but my emotional life, in practice, until recently didn’t exist at all.
Since last year I discovered Gay Project and I must say that for me it was an important thing. I read the forum every day and the guys who write there, it seems to me I almost to know them in person, a little I feel them as friends, because I don’t have gay friends. So basically until this year my sexuality was only fancy and I thought that a real contact with a guy, that is, something that gives you a strong sexual emotion I would never have tried it.
I had practically resigned myself to such a thing, resigned badly, let’s say so, because sometimes I saw some nice guys, I wanted at least to try to talk with them but I couldn’t really and I felt a sense of extreme despair. Now I work as an accountant, in practice I verify the “form 730”, “Unique” and things like that, work of low labor, but all in all I can live of my own.
At work, a 26-year-old guy arrived, rather nice, that is, I like him and he also attracts me sexually. Since I met him, it has been my only sexual fixed idea. I think all of you have gone through things like that. First you start to masturbate thinking of that guy, then it comes to your mind that you don’t know if he’s gay, well, I’ve overcome all these things, he told me he’s gay because I would never had such a courage and he also said that he likes me.
He had tried a minimum of physical contact with me but I rejected him badly, I did a kind of hysterical scene and then I ended up to cry, just an attack of despair, he was in a tremendous embarrassment and I was sorry very much because in the end I wanted him but I rejected him so violently that he got really scared and started to keep me at a distance. I could not understand why if I wanted him, and I wanted him madly, in the end I had attacked him like that.
That’s where the Project forum happened to me and I said to myself: I try, so what do I have to lose? And I called. At first a tremendous embarrassment. From what I’ve read many guys talk about sex in a very casual way but I just couldn’t.
The first time, we talked for hours but always in a very vague, and never about sex, I thought that Project was tired but no. Then I called him back, but still without talking about sex, the third time he called me, I was not expecting it and I was very happy and even the third time we didn’t talk about sex. In fact I had been looking for Project just to talk about sex and instead a very strange relationship was created which I was not really used to. A man that could be my father was talking with me for hours, he listened to me, a very strange feeling. I asked him why he was listening to me and he told me that he was at ease and in fact I was fine too, so I found the courage and told him about me, telling him a little about the story you read up to now. I also said of the anxiety that takes me when I’m with my friend and that I thought I would never be able to have a sexual contact with him.
One thing struck me: de-dramatization. Project took it for granted that it would not be a big problem and that it would be resolved soon and well. We talked about sexuality very freely. Well it was remarkable: I had no inhibitions, something that had never happened to me before when the talk ended up on sexual issues. I never thought I could talk freely with a man of that age and instead it just happened. Then in the following days, we talked often. If I have to tell the truth I felt the affection of Project, the attention to what I said and what I am.
Why did I write all this post? Well, the reason is one, yesterday, for the first time, I managed to kiss that guy. I had never experienced anything like this, just a feeling of total mutual abandonment. The time that stops and you end up to merge with another guy, a wonderful thing, let’s tell it, because of these things I’m not ashamed anymore, the excitement was such that I came to orgasm for a kiss! When I told this to Project, he told me some beautiful things. It’s true Project, being gay is a beautiful thing and makes you forget so many bad things you’ve been through. Now I consider that guy as my boyfriend, and he thinks the same! Guys! Never let anyone throw you down! I now feel like another person!
Hello Project, it made me good to read the story of that separate father waiting for divorce that has rediscovered his son, it’s a good story but unfortunately it will not happen like that to me. I am a 37-year-old mother, my son is only 19 years old and I have the impression that I’m losing him. It’s been a year since he stopped talking to me. I’m alone.
When he was born I was very young, a poor deluded girl ready to give confidence to the first come, I wanted to feel emancipated and you understood what happened. When I got pregnant he disappeared, I wanted to have an abortion and I told it my mother and she convinced me not to do it and told me that she would help me to move on.
Then Luca was born (let’s call him this way but it’s not his real name). I didn’t want to study and I started doing chores where I found. I had my mother behind me that gave me confidence and helped me. Obviously when you have a son at 18 with someone who he is complete disinterested in the fact of having a child, after, nobody wants you, because nobody wants the son of another man, it would not be a nice traditional little family. My mother took me to think about many things and to understand that I had to blame myself and certainly not my son for everything that had happened. I confess I assumed my role as a mother more out of duty than because I felt it was something really mine.
I tried to work to make Luca miss nothing, but of course my chances are quite limited even if I work as much as I can. Luca realized very early that he didn’t have a father. I didn’t tell him lies, but I told him right away how things were, maybe he was too young to understand and it hurt him a little. I know I’ve been impulsive and even stupid, but it happened many years ago. My son is a good boy, certainly much better than his mother and also much less stupid. He studies, he is always busy and tries to do everything he can. My problem, that one that makes me feel bad is another.
Luca, until last year had a girlfriend and it seemed like things were going well, he had brought her home a couple of times, she was a very taciturn girl but she cute up and had beautiful eyes. I was happy and he talked about her often, then at a certain point I noticed that something in my son’s life had changed, he didn’t talked anymore about the girl, when I asked him specifically he told me that it wasn’t my business and so far I could think that maybe they were in crisis for some reason, then it happens that he gets out in the afternoon while I’m going to do the shopping, the market is closed and I go somewhere else and while walking I see in front of me but at a certain distance, my son walking next to a gentleman I didn’t know, one dressed pretty well, who could have been 40-45 years old. I ask myself: who is this man? I begin to follow them from a distance. They go to the public villa and I watched them from afar. They stay there for an hour, then they go to the bus stop and my son takes the bus. I continue to follow that man and then I approach to see him more closely and I print his image into my brain.
I go back home, I ask my son what did he do all afternoon and he replies that this is just his business, I don’t know what to say, if I have tell him that I had followed him but in the end I don’t say anything. I try to change the subject and talk about school . My son has always been good at school, he tells me it’s all right and the speech ends there.
Then comes Christmas period and the time of talks between teachers and parents, I ask my son if he wants to come to the talks with me but he says no, and I go there alone. I know all the teachers, except for the math teacher who is new, I put myself in line, I go in, I look at him and I open my eyes in amazement: it’s him! He doesn’t wear wedding ring, it was the first thing I looked at. He speaks to me very well of Luca but in a clearly professional way. I don’t know if he remembers that for a moment we looked at each other the day I followed my son but he didn’t say anything, after five minutes he confirms that everything is fine and then the talk is over.
What was my son doing in the park with his math teacher? From there my paranoia began, I had to know it. I went to see my son’s cell phone but the memory card had been cleared, what, I think, was not at all random. Then I went to see into his PC, I know it is an unworthy thing to behave like me but I was and still am very agitated. I go to the “favorite sites” and find gay sites and here the world collapsed on me: my son plagiarized by his teacher!
I face him directly when he comes home , first I tell him about gay sites and there he already answers me in a violent way that I never expected, then when I tell him that I had seen him at the villa with his teacher he tells me that I’m crazy and I invent everything and in practice he denies everything but I had seen him very well.
I tell him that I would go to the headmaster to report everything, because people like that man shouldn’t be teaching in a school! He reacts like a viper and threatens me that if I had done such a thing I wouldn’t have seen him anymore. Practically since then I have not talked to my son anymore.
I went to the headmaster, certainly it wasn’t to accuse the teacher because in fact I had no proof but to request the transfer of my son to another Institute but the headmaster told me that since Luca was an adult the request had to come from him and hadn’t to be addressed to her but to the school where he wanted to go, I got angry and lost patience with headmaster and vented with her and told her the whole story but the answer left me stunned, she told me again that my son is an adult and that she had known the math teacher for years and he had never created problems of any kind. I raised my voice with the headmaster who didn’t even answer me, rang the bell and called the janitor to take me out. My son was in the corridor, saw the scene and understood what had happened. That day he didn’t come home and I got a terrible anguish, he didn’t even come back at night, he disconnected the phone and I was very uncomfortable, I think I have never been worse in my life.
The next day I went to school, my son was there and I calmed down a bit. I waited for the teacher instead but I didn’t see him, I thought the headmaster had called him and maybe he had taken a few days off. Then I see him coming up towards the gate, I stop him, he greets me warmly, gives me his hand and smiles at me. It was evident that he didn’t know anything about the whole scene with the headmaster, I don’t know what to do, I tell him that for some days I have problems with my son and that it is as if the dialogue between us was broken, he invites me to follow him inside, while we go up we meet the headmaster who behaves as if nothing had happened and greets us cordially.
The teacher had a free hour and we talk, slowly I begin to realize that the he esteems my son very much and that he talks with me so very direct, he worries about Luca’s future. I realize that I have only built a huge house of cards in which the only thing certain were my fears. I ask the teacher to help me to recover the relationship with my son, he assures me that he will, then he calls Luca to speak in three. Luca comes down with a face that would have bitten me if he could have to, then he realizes that with his teacher I have spoken only about school and he reassured.
The teacher tells my son that I asked him for help to recover the relationship with my son and Luca replies: “Teacher, I know you have a lot of good will, but these are matters that I have to regulate in private with my mother!” The teacher nods as if to say that Luca is right, sends Luca back to class and greets me. I come home calmly.
The school problem was over but the gay problem that kept me constantly agitated remained. Since then, 10 months have passed but nothing has been resolved. Luca is at home in the sense that he sleeps there and not always and sometimes he just eats there. With me he hardly ever speaks. What should I do, Project? I know that I did a lot of nonsense, but what can I do to recover a relationship with my son? Now I resigned myself to the idea that he’s gay, but at least I would like him not to consider me an enemy any more, even if I’m really afraid he can get into trouble.
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-i-have-a-gay-son-who-does-not-event-talk-to-me
I found your site by chance and I’m spending there my nights, in practice it is the only gay site that says true things about the life of gay guys and I must say that I find myself perfectly at ease there, in several posts is as if read what I think and what I feel. I send you this mail because I feel a bit “disgusted” (I have to use this word) by the behaviors of so many gays I met so that entering your site makes me feel better. Thanks, I really needed it! I would like to know what you think of my story (publish it if you want) and maybe I’d like to meet you on msn. I thank you in advance. But let’s get to the facts.
I am 23 years old guy and, I don’t know whether to say for my luck or for my bad luck, I am a nice guy, I see myself just like a normal guy but the others (men and women) tell me that I’m beautiful and, what is worst, they fall in love with me easily, which, you can understand, puts me tremendously embarrassed. In practice when I was 16 years old, a girl who everyone considered beautiful and who was really (one of my classmates) started to court me, and I stupidly, as if it were a game, put myself with this girl and there for the first time I tried on the straight side what it means to be the object of sexual attention without experiencing the same for the other person.
At first I didn’t understand what was happening, it seemed only a serious friendship, with her I talked about everything except my sexual desires that were in a completely different direction (I’ve always been gay and I’ve never had any doubts about this), then she began to bother me, to touch me, first in a generic way and I pretended to laugh about it, but then in a more and more insinuating and clearly sexual way and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I told her I was not in love with her and I thought she understood, but it didn’t happen, she kept calling me every five minutes on the phone, she was sticking to me on msn and I didn’t know how to close the conversations, then she wanted to understand, she wanted to know, in short, she was really in love but I wasn’t.
She made hysterical scenes, cries, despair, because the accounts didn’t come back, she saw that I had no other girl and began to ask specific questions, for me it was a torment because I had to see her at school every day, in short this story has been going on for a year, then she found another guy and apparently the thing was over but she wanted to continue being at least my friend but I didn’t want to know of such things.
I’m very shy with guys, almost wimp, worse than ever with those I like. So, in practice, I was always in the middle of the girls, at the beginning of the fifth class I started a new story with another girl, and it seemed to be on the same road as the first, but now I knew what to expect and I literally burned her badly right away, at least she didn’t ask questions and then she was not a schoolmate of mine. At the time I felt very lonely, I had no friends and I had a desperate desire to talk to someone and here I made the biggest mistake of my life.
There was a girl who had a boyfriend and didn’t run after me and who seemed a very serious person, slowly a beautiful atmosphere has been created, we talked a lot, she talked to me about her romantic problems and I told her that I was always lonely and melancholy, then I told her the story of my two girls (let’s call them so) but in a straight version, and then one day after another I ended up believing that there could be a sincere talk with her. After many hesitations I told her I was gay. I felt free, on the seventh heaven because she had taken it very well, she called me even more often than before, a bit she had taken me under her wing and I was pleased.
Then one day she tells me that I was wrong to be alone and I should have found a guy and she proposes to go with her to a gay club for an evening, just to see what the environment is. What seemed to me an overwhelming news, in short I accepted and we went there, when I arrived at the appointment with her I saw that there were also two guys, one was her boyfriend but I didn’t know the other. It was obvious that those two guys knew about me. The embarrassment was terrible because I never thought she could talk to others about my business and at that moment I hated her.
The guy I didn’t know was a 24-year-old gay guy, James (let’s call him so), a guy not bad to see. I swallowed the frog just because James was a nice guy and we even exchanged cell phone numbers. We went the bar, I would have hidden under a brick, James was absolutely at ease, in short, the discomfort was such that I said I had to get away just for a moment and I left leaving them three in the bar, after a little they called me on the cell phone, my friend he was angry with me because I had abandoned them that way, James tried to do the cute guy to make me go back but I didn’t have the slightest intention.
From here started the story with James whom I liked only physically, and a lot, so much that in practice immediately he became the object of my sexual fantasies but I didn’t like him at all as a person. He was not a bad guy, but he had a mentality that I didn’t feel mine from any point of view. On one side I rejected him and for the other I wanted him and he understood it. He went after me in an asphyxiating way but with him it was not like with the girls, in some way I depended on him on a sexual level and I felt it very strong: I wanted him, I got excited when I heard his voice on the phone, I imagined talking to him and I tried to prepare in advance what I had to say.
I have also made of those days a minute-by-minute diary, which, to reread it now, makes me a strange effect, but then I was really in love with James. On the other hand I knew that I couldn’t expect anything good from him and I confirmed it every day, I was pampered a bit in words but, with the passage of time, always for a kind of bet with himself more than for a maybe even sexual interest towards me. I had more than once the clear feeling that in any case he only wanted me on a physical level, when he was talking to me he was playing or pretending and I always had the feeling that he didn’t really take me seriously.
With the strength of despair I tried to detach myself in every way, but I was very bad, in short, it lasted months and months of anguish and of being sick like a dog, then I saw him in a public garden while he was necking with another guy in a very explicit way for what can be done in a public garden. I thought this meant that the story with me would end, but it didn’t. He kept calling me as before, and sending me text messages like St. Valentin’s ones that really bothered me, let’s say he continued to court me in a way that seemed to me very stupid and superficial.
I wanted to talk seriously with him but when I tried he changed the subject. However, he never told me anything about the guy I had seen in the garden, so that I began to think I was wrong, but after a while, when I began not to bear it anymore I asked him explicitly about that guy and I saw he had a moment of embarrassment, then he admitted that the guy was a just friend of his, but with a friend, you don’t do at all the things he was doing. Since then, my interest in James has practically collapsed, even though I often fantasized about him, I dreamed of him in my own way as he would never have been.
Meanwhile, I had sent to the hell my friend or presumed such who had presented him to me, but the gossip about me had gone around, now practically everyone who knew me knew about me. It was a very unpleasant feeling, I felt naked in front of the people who knew all my business. I didn’t know how to behave and I was afraid of everyone, because they could embarrass me. In less than a year I was the subject of very suspicious attention by three men 30/40 years old men I barely knew before by sight. They approached me as I used to with girls, they told me that I was beautiful and then slowly they also widened to a few half-proposals accompanied by compliments that seemed to me the typical compliments that are done to a bitch.
To all these things I tried to react with detachment but they bothered me a lot. There was only one person who impressed me positively, a gentleman married, more or less 50/55 years old, I had met when I was going to bring packages for a shipping agency. I had met him more than once and there was a minimum of sympathy. He was a married man, with children, at least in theory he was not gay and with me he had a behavior very different from that of others. One day I didn’t know where to bump my head I met him by chance and I talked to him rather freely and he was listening to me carefully, then he gave me a lot of advice on what to do. I don’t say I fell in love with this man because I didn’t like him physically, but he inspired me tenderness, I had the impression that he was doing his best to behave with me, I liked his way of being, he was dignified, he was in practice the only one of the men I knew who didn’t court me but is probably the only one I think I could fall in love with. I know that it may seem strange but it is so.
I always thought he was gay, he never told me, and I never asked him about it. After all, I think it would not have changed anything. The last time I saw him, after almost five months, he told me that his wife was dead and that he was going to live in another city with his son, and we didn’t meet anymore.
In the meantime I had started working with a permanent contract in the shipping agency. I think that neither my work colleagues nor the customers knew about me, but sometimes someone tried to court me, let’s say so, more or less every month or every two months I received some more or less explicit proposal. This was the period when I felt the greatest disgust of being gay, I felt wrong even as a gay, a guy out of place who still dreams of a life with a little dignity. I came to think that with one of these guys or maybe with a guy who had courted me on a chat at the end I would have had sex at least to see what effect it does to do such a thing with a stranger and I went very close to it, but just when I was about to let me go I happened on Gay Project.
I don’t know whether to say that things have changed for me, maybe it’s too much, but I read the forum far and wide and almost didn’t believe my eyes, real gay guys who discuss seriously and who have created a kind of world apart, but in the positive sense of the term, let’s say an uncontaminated world where they talk seriously about gay life. But reading the forum I didn’t find any story really similar to mine. I’d like to know if there are any guys who felt unwanted attentions from other guys or even adult men and how they reacted and even if there are guys who were disgusted by the mentality of other gay guys, just like it happened to me. I would like to find only serious friends with whom I can talk freely and Project made me realize that all this is possible.
If you want, you can participate in the discussion of this post open on the Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-a-gay-guy-who-feels-like-a-toy-boy-both-with-guys-and-girls
I’m the father of a gay guy and I read your forum several times together with my wife to understand how to behave with our son and undoubtedly it was useful. I will not tell you about our worries and doubts, and above all the uncertainties about how to start a direct dialogue with our son, but in the end we succeeded, and our relationships have always been good, or rather they would have always been good if there had not been a point on which our son’s attitude worried us a lot.
He is now 17, he has a special friend, let’s call him so. In the past I could not deal with my son in a direct way, since he did not, we often spoke of sex, especially of prevention, but my wife and I were always very careful not to intrude too much into his private things. The other guy, whose name is Steven, came to our house several times, and we talked a lot, he’s a mature and responsible guy, he had dinner with us and once he even went to sleep at our house. I also knew his parents who seemed to me very good people, until a few days ago I didn’t know what they knew about the son then Steven spoke with us explicitly and said that his parents know everything. I asked Steven if, according to him, it would have been useful for him and for my son that we would contact his parents and he said yes.
A few days ago, in the afternoon, my wife and I went to see Steven’s parents, Steven and my son were also present. At first it was a bit embarrassing, but then the guys themselves got us out of trouble. And here comes the sore point. My wife, Steven’s parents and I were all in agreement to advise the guys the utmost caution, and Steven agreed, but my son didn’t want to know reasons and made it a matter of principle. Generally he’s very reasonable but it seemed to me that in this case it was just an obstinacy. We tried to make him reason in every possible way. Steven reminded him of the example of one of their comrades who was put in serious trouble by the gossip of other comrades, some parents and even some teachers, because, even if it may seem incredible, the teachers who make stupid gossip and who address the guys in a homophobe and rude way still exist.
There was only one argument that made my son recede from his obstinacy. Steven told him: “Louis, look, for you the coming out is a fundamental thing and you say you will do it anyway, but for me it’s something to be avoided, not absolutely, but because today we cannot afford it. In short, if you want to feel free to come out, I cannot stop you, but I cannot even be forced to do something that I just don’t want to do. That is, if it is just as you say – an inalienable issue of personal dignity – well, then it is good that I put myself aside, because I don’t want to feel forced to do something like that.” This speech put my son in crisis, he who did not accept his parents’ prudent speech was sensitive to the idea of not forcing his friend to do anything against his will.
At the end of the evening, the weather seemed quiet and the three of us came back home, but evidently our son was not at all convinced. In the car he began a tirade, that no longer ended up, on courage, dignity, self-respect and so on, I told him that he knew what we thought and that we and his mother talked about it so much and we had reached the same conclusions. Then I added: “You have to deal with Steven first of all because you can put him in great difficulty.” He tended to minimize, trivialize, to do a moralistic preaching, but I closed the speech: “Obviously you are free to make your choices but we don’t follow you on this ground.”
The next day, after school, he came home together with Steven and, in front of us, he quarreled furiously with him, something I would never have believed possible, he called him “designated victim”, said he was “plagiarized by his parents” and other things that I avoid mentioning, Steven got up, greeted me and my wife (not my son), took the door and left. My son made a scene with us, he seemed like another person, he raised his voice, tried to verbally vent against Steven and also against us. My wife intervened to close the discussion, and we left for our room. Louis went into his room slamming the door.
My wife and I looked at each other very worriedly, we didn’t know this side of Louis at all and it troubled us a lot. The following morning Louis left the house early to avoid meeting us and didn’t come back home at the usual time after school, but around five o’clock in the afternoon. I didn’t know where Louis was and I called Steven, who replied: “Oh, hello, listen, I’m a little busy now, I’ll call you as soon as I can.” Such a conversation could only mean that Louis and Steven were together and I didn’t worry.
Shortly after five o’clock Steven called me back and told me that with Louis they had arrived at a “truce” but added that he thought he would be able to change my son’s opinion. When Louis came home he expected an underlining of the fact that he had arrived very late, but neither my wife nor I said anything but that lunch was on the table in the dishes, and that if he wanted to have lunch he could do it. My wife and I prepared to leave the house, we already agreed that we would leave Louis alone to avoid scenes like that of day before, but he stopped us.
“Where are you going? You never leave at this time!” My wife replied: “We thought maybe you’re better alone and we leave you your space …” He continued: “Enough with these stories! A minimum of prudence is fine … but as soon as the conditions are favorable, I will do my coming out all the way, because I don’t want to live in the sewers but in the light of the sun!” And so I said mine: “No! You still don’t understand something very important, as long as you stay with Steven you are not the one who decides but you have to decide together! Do you think that your mother and I always agree on everything? Sometimes she gave up and sometimes I gave up … otherwise you cannot go on!”
He looked at me in a defiant attitude, but also with a half-mocking smile: “Look, Daddy, if you’re in the mood for sermons you can even go for a walk, if I give up it’s not because you and mom and Steven’s parents made you get scared … I don’t want to lose Steven, I give up for this.” I remained silent and raised my eyes to heaven. My wife and I put our coats back on and Louis told us: “Order four pizzas at the pizzeria for tonight, because at eight o’clock Steven is coming, Neapolitan for me and capricious for him, ok?” “Ok!” I do not know if I can say that now we are out of danger but it seems to me that the worst is over! The story is basically trivial and at the moment it seems that it ended fine, but I think it can be useful to someone. Obviously you can publish the email, the facts are those, but there are no sensitive elements. Thanks for everything.
Danilo and Albina (invented names, of course)
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